


Yes Ma'am

by ssleif



Series: Poly Parents [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Cock Warming, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssleif/pseuds/ssleif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melissa/Sheriff/Chris, slow boning d/s fic for theeloquentdecadent for the Polyamorus Wolf Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes Ma'am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theeloquendecadent](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=theeloquendecadent).



> Hey, so, I wanna thank my beta for holding my hand and then, kindly, pointing out that I had gone completely off-track. As a result, there’s about six or seven thousand words of fluff/not!fic/prequel that never made it into this final version, but haven’t been deleted, so don’t be surprised if I add stuff to this eventually (which is why I marked it as part of a series).  
> For theeloquentdecadent for the PWE! Hope it works for you!
> 
> (also the working title for this fic was Butt-plug Barbecue, btw, very nearly almost didn't change it)

It was Labor day, and Chris was uncomfortable. He wasn’t actually in much physical discomfort (although he _was_ having trouble sitting still). No, his discomfort was a little more mental, knowing that there were plenty of werewolves about and, if he wasn’t very very careful, they were liable to learn some things they probably didn’t want to know. And someone would tell Allison, he was sure of it. Damn Scott McCall for being so unflinchingly honest and damn Melissa for scaring all three members of that relationship into deep and perpetual communication. Keeping secrets had never been so tricky.

For instance: he was currently wearing a butt plug. In the middle of the Labor Day potluck. And trying not to get hard.

He’d had plenty of opportunities to back out, of course. Neither John nor Melissa actually _wanted_ him doing anything he really didn’t want to do… but at the time, he’d just orgasmed, and John was still kind of playing with him, running one blunt finger around and around his rim, dipping in, pulling out, almost petting. And Melissa had such a glint in her eye as she talked about it, about their little secret, about him being all plugged up under his clothes, maybe with John’s come still inside him. Outwardly, he would be as collected as he ever was, but secretly, he’d be full of them, feeling them inside him every time he moved, reminded of what they’d been doing just before, like pushing on a bruise.

As they had showered, right before the barbecue, Melissa had soaped him up, clung to his shoulders a little bit, petting at his arms and chest, talking the whole time about how pleased she was and how fun it would be…. And then John slid in behind them, planted his palm between Chris’ shoulder blades and pushed, bending Chris partway over against the wall of the shower.

And almost the next thing Chris knew, he was dressed with a plug up his ass.

It wasn’t precisely uncomfortable. The plug was one of their smaller toys, the kind designed to be wearable for longer periods of time. And it wasn’t even, say, one of the fancy brands, designed to stimulate the prostate with every clench. It was just a little thing, plain and black, a little flared so it could be pulled out and wouldn’t go anywhere, but mostly flat so it didn’t distort the line of his pants.

The first few moments in the shower had been weird, as they always were, his body telling him that that was something that didn’t belong there. But he had endured worse discomforts (both in the bedroom and out) and knew he could get used to it quick enough. By the time he pulled on his underwear, he hadn’t necessarily forgotten he was wearing it, but it had dropped down the list of his concerns.

And then the seam of his briefs caught against it for a moment and he remembered.

So it was shaping up to be the least boring cookout he’d ever been on.

At first he was paranoid. It was a get-together half-full of werewolves, after all, but when none of them looked at him and gasped, he started to reason out that, even if they did notice… something, they’d be unlikely to draw attention to it. It was an endless source of confused pride, mortification, and denial for most of the pack that the parents were not only hooking up (Melissa and John courting Chris six months after they were married was old news), but were doing so regularly. And sometimes loudly.

Chris was exceedingly pleased that all the children had chosen to move out (and in with each other) and left the three of them with plenty of house to not have to worry about scarring young werewolves.

So he found himself settling down, and the toy was taking up less and less of his focus, only really noticeable when he walked around the tables, or back into the house to locate another bottle opener.

“Hey Chris?"

“Yeah Melissa?”

“I think there’s another bag of napkins sitting on the counter by the fridge, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Sure.”

He had just time enough to catch the sly look John shot Melissa over the grill before she turned him towards the house… and slapped his ass as she passed.

“Mom!” Scott protested from the other side of the table, making a small scene (small, but big enough, Chris hoped, to distract from whatever scent he was sure he was projecting as he stood there, tingling and clenching around the plug, trying to work up the motor control to go look for the damn napkins).

Nope. He was right the first time. It was going to be a long damn barbecue.

\--

“Holy crap, Chris, I can’t believe you did that for us,“ Melissa breathed, between kisses, as she shoved Chris back onto the bed.

“The look on your face when you sat down with your burger…” Chris looked over at John, to see if he was laughing at that statement too, but John’s gaze was heated as he unbuckled his belt and slowly, smoothly, slid it through the loops on his pants.

“Do you think anyone noticed?” Melissa grinned, pulling off her own t-shirt before starting on Chris’.

“Derek did,” John said, toeing off his shoes and unzipping his pants, “did you catch the way he changed the topic, when Isaac noticed you weren’t eating much?”

Chris thought about answering, but he was quickly losing himself to the intensity between the three of them, and the plug was a little sore now (not actually painful, but enough that he really couldn’t ignore it anymore). As Melissa gently pushed him supine on the bed, and John stepped over to undo Chris’ pants, he couldn’t help but clench around the plug, couldn’t help but compare the sensation to fingers, working his rim, sliding just along the inside, pushing at him from within.

It was very distracting.

“You okay, Chris? Colors?”

That question brought him back a little bit, and he made eye contact with Melissa as he breathed out.

“Green. Really, really green.”

“Okay”, she agreed, helping John strip the last of Chris’ clothing, his underwear, jostling the plug a little when they do it, making him gasp a little.

“So, “ Melissa continued, “If nobody minds, I have some ideas.”

“Shoot,” John says.

“John.” And just like that, Melissa’s tone shifted and brought both Chris and John to their -metaphorical- knees.

“Yes ma’am?” John responded, voice lower and rougher already.

“Would you like to do me a favor?”

“Always, Ma’am.”

“Let’s get Chris a little higher on the bed, please, and then I want you to warm me up a while I work on Chris.”

“My pleasure.”

Melissa and John, with some help from Chris, moved the party a little more firmly towards the headboard. Chris, recognizing that glint in her eyes, even through the lust-drunk haze that way trying to overtake his vision, automatically raised his arms above his head.

“Good boy,” Melissa praised, “but we won’t be tying you up tonight.”

Chris felt a tiny stab of disappointment. Being bound had been a particular thrill of his for a long time, now, ever since he was a teenager, and training to get out of any kind of knot. With every coil of rope he slipped, he felt more confident, more himself. It got to the point where knowing he could slip or cut the rope if he wanted to felt as safe as actually doing it, and with that variable controlled, all of a sudden being tied up made him feel secure and powerful and good.

“Don’t make that face at me, Chris Argent.”

Chris quickly schooled his face as Melissa slunk across the bed, on all fours, planting her very naked self above him.

“Now, I want you to do two things for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, very softly.

“First, even though we aren’t going to tie you up, I want you to leave your hands there, as if we did.” she paused, and smiled “Save us the trouble.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“And in addition to keeping those hands right where they are? I want you to wait to orgasm until I give you permission.”

Chris shivered.

“Ye- yes ma’am.”

“Don’t worry,” Melissa assured him, “You can tell us when you’re close and we might back off a little. But I don’t want you coming until after we both do, okay? Colors?”

“Okay. Good. Green, ma’am”

“Good boy.”

And she got to work. First she ran her hands up and down his body. She lightly scratched her nails through the fur on his chest and belly, tweaked a nipple. As she started to move lower, which Chris was desperate for but also dreading, John came up behind her, standing for a moment at the foot of the bed. Chris watched, over her shoulder, as John ran his own large hands back and forth across the dip of her back, and then between her thighs, pulling them just a little further apart. And then he leaned forward.

Melissa gasped.

For a few minutes, they all lost themselves this way. Chris was torn between watching Melissa pant, and watching John’s hands tighten on her thighs, head moving and bobbing as he ate her out just right, and watching Melissa’s own hand circling closer and closer, taking side trips to tap the plug, brushing past his balls.

Chris thought, if it all carried on long enough, he could probably come just from the visual stimulation alone.

And then Melissa skipped right past his dick and headed down his thighs. For a moment, he was confused. And then she rubbed his knees.

Chris hissed, and his hands jerked for a moment, before he remembered to hold them still.

“Are they still sore, sweetheart?”

They were. Chris had a sudden sense-memory of the two hours he'd spent, that morning, kneeling under the dining room table with John’s cock in his mouth. In an instant, he was halfway to the same headspace he’d found that morning, to the world going quiet as he focused on nothing but John in his mouth and his knees on the floor.

They went on like that for a moment, Melissa feeling him up, rubbing at his legs, and then knees, pulling noises from Chris that made him glad there weren’t any werewolves in the house.

Eventually, Melissa moved back up, tapping on the plug a couple of times, and giving his cock one long, slow pull that was enough to make his toes curl, and then she knelt up and John backed off. Chris swallowed, hard, as John leaned over Melissa’s shoulder and let her taste herself.

Finally, Melissa shoved John away and towards the nightstand.

Melissa leaned forward again, and pulled out the plug with no warning… And Chris was gone. His eyes slid closed, though his hands mercifully stayed in place, as her fingers quickly reduced him to mush. He almost didn’t notice When John’s larger fingers replaced hers, now slicked with lube, now one in, now two.

He _did_ notice when Melissa stroked his face. He opened his eyes to find her kneeling on either side of his head, sitting back on his chest. He automatically opened his mouth, ready for whatever she wanted.

“Good boy.”

It didn’t take very long, between Melissa in his mouth, on his face, restricting his breathing, and John relentlessly rubbing, stretching and twisting, for Chris to feel himself on the edge of orgasm. His eyes shot open in panic, but Melissa was watching for it, and pulled herself off his face, reaching behind herself and tapping John’s hand away.

“You’re being so good for us, Chris, so good to wait.”

Chris swallowed and panted, and tried to pull himself back a little. He knew what was coming next.

“You ready for John?”

Chris was so ready, he was having trouble forming any words but-

“Green, green, green green green-”

Melissa leaned down and kissed him quiet.

And John hooked Chris’ legs over his own broad shoulders and slid home.

Chris hadn’t known how much he would enjoy anal sex, until he met Chris and Melissa. They had opened up a whole new horizon of sweat and stimulation he’d been desperately missing. He’d found, in recent months, that he could come from penetration alone… So he knew Melissa and John were close themselves, must have been ready, when he felt her slide a condom down his length, carefully, not adding any unnecessary sensation, and get herself into position, hovering over him, with John against her back.

He took a deep breath and she sank down.

He couldn’t last long like that, and they all knew it, but time seemed to stretch as they all moved together. It was a strange thing that sometimes happened, when their breathing seemed so loud, and he could hear the slick slide of flesh against flesh. Melissa’s weight on him, around him, and John holding him, in him, anchored him in a way that actually made him feel like he was floating.

This time, when he got close, Melissa smiled, and slowed, letting him back from the edge for only a moment, before picking up the pace again.

"Mel- Ma'am. Melissa. Ma'am...!" he heard himself whimper.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I know you're close. It's okay."

It wasn't okay. He wasn't just close. He was riding that edge just barely keeping it together. John was in him, just-right rhythm hitting him and filling him and Melissa was riding him, squeezing him, milking him. His thighs and abs burned where he tried to arch into them and his shoulders and arms burned where the held them. He couldn't open his eyes, couldn't look. He knew he would go over if her did, and it wasn't time yet, not his turn, she didn't say-

"Now, Chris, come for us. You can let go, now, it's okay."

And Chris clenched, every muscle going tight and hard as his world went white, and then grey, and then black.

-

He came to some time later, comfortable and boneless, on his side as John wiped him down with a wet cloth. Chris started to push himself up, but Melissa’s arms came over him from behind, holding him in place. John slid back into bed in front of him a moment later, and he let himself fall back asleep, completely sated in the arms of the people he loved.


End file.
